2) Why you still reading this trash?

5 months later

Finally. No classes. No dumb shifts at that stupid cafè. Just me, Netflix, pizza and five hours of Jennifer Aniston and the rest of the Friends cast. Jen is the only female I will actually go gay for.

I ordered myself an extra cheesy margarita pizza with stuffed crust and poured myself a glass of Coke. I took a sip from the Coke as I waited for my pizza to arrive. "We were on a break!" Ross screamed from the tv. I wheezed so hard my coke nearly shot out of my nose.

As if I hadn't watched this show over thirteen times already.

I was having a nice peaceful day, until some idiot decided to interrupt me by knocking ever so violently on my poor door. It better be the pizza guy.

"Who is it?" I yelled too lazy to get up. The idiot decided to keep knocking like a maniac instead of answering. "Okay I'm coming. Geez." I dragged myself off the couch to open the door. The person kept knocking, with each knock even louder than the previous. I put my hand on the door knob, twisted it and swung open the door.

A guy. With a gun. Standing. With a gun. At my door. With the gun. Aimed at me. I looked at him. He wore a black suit and a pair of sunglasses, indoors.

To be honest, he was pretty hot. He was super tall with big broad shoulders. His skin was tan and jawline sharp.

I'd let him stuff my pizza crust.

I stared at him with widened eyes for about two seconds.

Then I slammed the door shut in his face and ran.

I ran through the living room, knocking down a bunch of shit in my way. "God, listen. I'm sorry for ordering an extra cheesy margarita pizza with stuffed crust and a side of garlic roll." I said while jumping over the couch because I'm too extra to just walk around it. The hot gun guy started trying to kick the door down. What the hell was even happening?!

I ran past the kitchen, grabbing my keys on the counter. Then my fatass decided to trip over the vacuum cleaner I took out because I told myself I was going to clean today. I lied.

I went crashing down into the floor and hit my head. Thank god it didn't hurt. Just then, the door flew open and hot FBI agent guy walked in. I pushed myself off the floor and headed to my bedroom.

"I promise to continue my diet! It was just one cheat day! Okay, maybe two. Okay fine seven! Just make him go away and I'll continue dieting, please! I'm too young to die!"

To say I was panicking is an understatement. This guy was right on my heels. I don't know how the fuck he's so fast. I was about to just give up and hide in my closet, but then I remembered the window in my room that my car was conveniently located at.

I ran into my room, locking the door behind me. I pulled my chair to the window and tied the long piece of rope that I just so happened to have onto it. I opened the window, threw the rope out and tried climbing down.

"Fuck, I should have continued those pole dancing classes," I mumbled as I struggled to climb down the rope. I had no upper body strength whatsoever. The sexy spy guy ran up to my window and looked down at me dangling from the rope. He must've knocked my room door down too. Who was this guy? Jackie Chan?

It was at this moment I really wished I had insurance. He pulled his gun out and aimed it at me. I looked down to see the distance left to the ground. I was two floors in the air. "Fuck it," I jumped down.

I ignored the pain in my leg from jumping and ran to my car. I unlocked it and hopped into the driver's seat. I slammed the door shut, locked it and exhaled. My breathing was so heavy and I was wheezing my lungs out. Damn you asthma.

I sat there, looking straight ahead and breathing heavily with my heart pounding in my chest.

Just when my breathing finally calmed and my heart rate slowed down, click click.

I looked to the right to see someone, dressed in all black with a ski mask, sitting in the passenger seat with a cold gun pressed against my head. "Motherfucker," I passed out.

❈ ❈ ❈

*struts onto stage wearing miley cyrus' mouse costume and picks up mic*

Hello fellow hormonal teens (or perverted ten year olds we don't judge)

Seems like Malia's got herself caught in a pretty sticky PICKLE, if ya know what I mean *wink wink*

..........I'll go home.

This book is so fun to write like I'm suppose to be studying for the exam I have tomorrow but fuck that, right?

So I'm not doing this for like 'fame'(?) or whatever but I mean feel free to vote *makes turtleman face*